Gone With the Beasties
by Haquikah
Summary: Alek has been sent to the Americas to make his fortune in cotton planting. Unbeknownst, to his parents a Civil war is broiling in America. Can love and a foreign title keep Alek alive?


**Gone with the Beasties  
I was reading Gone with the Wind and then I re-read Goliath, boom!  
-A hopeful masterpiece, hopefully.**

Alek - 1860 July 5th

I hang out near the front of the boat awaiting my first glimpse of America through the pearly rays of moonlight. My family sent me out to seek fortune away from the Austrian-Hungarian throne. My father had to set the stage for when I come back. If all goes to plan I will become the next Emperor. We had to do this the long and trivial way since my father married, a commoner. I was a half-royal, illegitimate. A bastard…  
Volger's voice stole me away from my dark thoughts.  
"Your Highness, we're almost at Charleston. It is about time you started packing for departure."  
I sigh.  
"Yes, Count Volger."  
As I reluctantly shuffle to my cabin, I go over the plan.  
First, I recover in Charleston for a week or so to recoup. Then we'll travel to Georgia to buy a hundred acres for cotton planting, and perhaps hire some workers, buy slaves if need be. I shivered at the horridness of all this, the idea of owning slaves was down right awful.  
I also didn't want to move to Georgia, since it is a horribly unnatural Darwinist state.

Retrieving my heavy bag, I depart the ship, only to wobble viciously.  
Klopp laughs.  
"Haven't got yer sea legs then have you?" he says in a heavy German accent.  
I glower at him.  
"Let's just find an inn and be done with this." I declare hastily, as I call a cab drawn by tigersques .  
All of my men's soft chuckles die out as the tigersques pull up next to us. None us trusted these Darwinist abominations.  
I clear my throat quietly, "How much is the fare?"  
The Cabby replies in an odd accent, " Y'all needa pay bout a 25 cents a mile."  
Spirit sinking, I turn to face my men.  
Embarrassed, I murmur "Any of you got 25 cents on you?"  
All of them shake their heads slowly.  
The great blemish in beautiful plan.  
Currency.

* * *

**Adaira/Deryn/Dylan P.O.V- July 5th**  
I swagger down Main Street, in a lovely imitation of a boy. I was very confident I wouldn't be recognized, my fine girlish features turn rough with a bit of dust and grime.  
I was in Atlanta visiting my Uncle Clyde. In other words, my Mammy couldn't handle me anymore and begged Mother to send me away for a month. It was dead simple. I always came back happier, and Mammy had time to recuperate. I hate being a girl it was barking boring! All you did was look pretty till you catch a man and then you tend the plantation. You did all of this in a corset too, that damnedest thing!

I breathe in the heavy scent of tobacco and alcohol, welcoming the familiar air.

I gracefully slide into a tavern and sit at the bar, boots on the counter.  
Deepening my voice I scratch out "A pint of scotch and some grub."  
Sourly, the bartender slams my order down on the counter and leaves, rubbing his hand muttering vile words.  
I loudly glub down scotch and suck in the corn bread and fried chicken, I came here so much the bartender knew my order by heart. That and the first day I came here I stole a gun from Uncle Clyde and shot him in the hand to make a point. He called me an unwhiskered brat, **_the gall of some people_**!  
I scout the room looking for potential gambling partners. I need them to be drunk, stupid and dead rich.  
This was another reason Uncle Clyde let me do this, the money. We split 60-40, so everyone went home happy.  
Eventually I spot a well-dressed man slurrying his words, loosely playing his cards.  
This is too easy.  
"Howdy, suh." I drawl, " Care for a bits a poker?"  
The man blearily looks up at me smiling wickedly.  
"Why sure thing, why I'll even shuffle the deck!" he said happily, spittle dribbling down his chin.  
I narrow my eyes, and clear my voice.  
"How bout you go gets us some scotch and I count the cards, aye?"  
He perks up at the mention of a good drink.  
"Sure thing."  
I slowly count the cards , meticulously making sure it wasn't rigged.  
"I gots us some 4 pints each!" he bawls loudly  
I smirk.  
"Good jawb , gent. Now lets us play some poker!"

* * *

I walk out at sundown $ 300 richer. I laugh freely, taking care to deepen it. Men were utter fools when drunk, unless they could handle their whiskey like I did.  
My smile slowly disappeared, I didn't want this to end. It's so unfair! Tomorrow, I had to go home and go to my big coming out party/ birthday party. Turning 16 never seemed so horrible till now.  
All these men get to fool around and us girls just go to those parties evr'y week; like that was any fun.  
Pursing my mouth, I run home, enjoying the sweet Georgian air. I couldn't spill my thoughts out, my reputation would be ruined. I couldn't run away neither, Da and Ma were counting on me to rope some rich man and marry 'im so we don't go to the poor house. Just last year we had to sell 20 of our negroes. Many of them were my friends, no coincidence.

I walk inside stealthily past crème walls and mahogany flooring. Uncle Clyde was a millionaire, and to no surprise too. He had many stories to tell if one'd listen.  
I change quickly and run to find Uncle Clyde.  
"How-Hello, Uncle!" Uncle Clyde brightens up.  
"Heyo Adaira! What have you got for me today?"  
I smugly grin.  
"I got $120 for you!"  
"$120!"  
I nod vigorously.  
"Well come here then and I'll tell you a story, from my time in Kansas territory!"  
I grin. Uncle always knew my favourites.  
We walked to the parlor and I sat by Uncle's feet as he spun my favorite tale.  
"I remember that night as if it were yesterday, Adaira." rambles Uncle Clyde.  
"I went to the Kansas territory to vote pro-slavery with my cousin Gerald on May 23rd. Only when I got there, I found Gerald in an abolitionist meeting. Of course, I was puffed with anger and betrayal but as I started listening more, I found that what they were saying made sense. Eventually I came out and Gerald's eyes almost burst but with only two words I was in cahoots with them Abolitionists. We staged an act of violence and killed 5 slave owners beneath a moonless sky" Uncle Clyde stops as he always does and twists his beard thoughtfully, "Looking back on it, my blood was running rather hot with the beauty and opportunity of youth. I kept in touch-" Uncle Clyde looks out the window.

"Now off to bed with ye it's dark out! You know the rest of the story by heart anyways!" he chides, "And no reading Uncle Tom's Cabin again!"  
Smoothing my petticoats, I hurry to bed, before I start crying.  
I sure as hell didn't want tomorrow to come.

* * *

Review? Love, hate? Ideas corrections and constructive criticism is also appreciated!


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